


lover won't you forgive me

by amiesce



Category: Code Geass
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, M/M, POV Alternating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:20:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21734401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amiesce/pseuds/amiesce
Summary: “I can’t,” says the Suzaku who is a master of self-denial and repression.Which is useful in war but a disadvantage when facing the malignant hedonist deity that is Lelouch’s body.His sister dead in an alley or putrifying in a Britannian dungeon, and Lelouch smiles at her executioner as if in love.Or, Suzaku is grievously angry after returning to Ashford in S2E5 and Lelouch says eff it and seduces him anyway.
Relationships: Kururugi Suzaku/Lelouch Lamperouge | Lelouch vi Britannia
Comments: 2
Kudos: 65





	lover won't you forgive me

Multifarious unvoiced syllables clustering behind his teeth, Lelouch invites Suzaku to dinner. Warm mouth, warm gaze offered up to the green crystalline anger that goes dull and dies. 

The trick to masticated silk, spat out to make delicate thread to wrap around his (ex)lover, is to walk on hairs and minimize contact. Even if the way Suzaku can laugh will haunt Lelouch if he allows it. Lelouch smiles back, and doesn’t allow it.

His sister dead in an alley or putrifying in a Britannian dungeon, her existence dissolved into the skin of this ugly planet, and Lelouch smiles at her executioner as if in love.

Say Rolo is sent upstairs to complete his homework (pitiful god of death, routed by trigonometry). Say the cheesecake is decorated with raspberries. Over dessert, Lelouch asks whether Suzaku remembers sneaking off to the marketplace and watching the fishermen cracking open a shiny, jagged sea urchin. How after the gruesome dissection, the sumptuous yellow belly, horrifyingly alive, wriggles.

The Britannian knight seems startled, but only by the unexpected violence of reminiscence. His expression settles as he asks why Lelouch is dredging up relics. Lelouch’s answering smile is multifractal, a colored smoke bomb. 

Meanwhile Lelouch plucks a pink-nippled fruit out of its bed of cream and closes his teeth around it. Hardly missing the way Suzaku’s stare hooks into him.

“Why did you really invite me over, Lelouch?” the knight asks. He’s high-wired to notice any disturbing of sediment, resolved not to be fooled this time, not this time.

Lelouch runs his fingers along the crest of Suzaku’s knuckles like a blind man reading. He reads _here is the chain of mountains who struck you down like the thunderbolts of god. Suzaku will never forgive himself for failing to suspect you. Will you, Lelouch, do what he can’t?_

Suzaku jerks away. His reflexes are too quick (to miss the hurt that rearranges the muscles around Lelouch’s eyes). Lelouch’s expression incites half-swallowed apology and the chair scraping away from the table, a mutter about early morning drills.

The spider in Lelouch’s skull gloats coldly.

“So this is how it ends?” Lelouch queries, voice brimming with sad fondness.

It stops Suzaku at the doorway. “What are you talking about, Lelouch?”

The way Suzaku says his name, like he wants to kick it in the ribs. Lelouch doesn’t have to reach very far for the emotion that makes him slump in his seat and cover his face with one slender hand.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice how you brushed me off in class today,” Lelouch continues. “Or how you’ve been avoiding me. I know that work must demand all your time and that you’ve made new friends, but at least have the common courtesy to tell me that you’ve changed your mind.”

“About _what_ , Lelouch?” Man of action, he walks back to the table and looms over Lelouch’s chair (too coward to touch).

He’s not prepared for Lelouch grabbing the front of his civilian uniform and surging toward his mouth like a swarm of minnows. (Man of action, you should have been able to push me off, but you didn’t.) Or the vicious mongoose body that presses up against his sun-bronzed military discipline. Or the desperate and hurt pant of breath when Suzaku does push him off.

“What are you doing?” Suzaku asks in an undertone, but he may well be asking himself.

“I know you’re not this stupid,” Lelouch says acridly. Then injuredly. “Don’t make me say it, Suzaku. Be _my_ knight for once.”

That lands harsher than Lelouch intends. Suzaku clenches his jaw and if not for the unchivalry of lashing out at a lobotomized ex-insurrectionist, he would probably pulverize Lelouch between his strong white teeth. If not for the insistence of his spider brain, Lelouch might let him.

“I can’t,” says the Suzaku who is a master of self-denial and repression.

Which is useful in war but a disadvantage when facing the malignant hedonist deity that is Lelouch’s body, offered without any of the usual haughtiness or self-respect, who bares its white throat like waxy midnight flowers. Whose arachnid hand slips to the front of Suzaku’s trousers, as Lelouch promises _last time_. When they know it can’t ever be the last time until one of them is dead.

* * *

Suzaku is going to hell and hell is the sumptuous constriction of Lelouch’s throat and the muffled vibrating groan when Suzaku’s scalping fingernails force Lelouch to swallow or choke. Also the tears puckering in the pink corners of the former prince’s sleep-deprived eyes, as Lelouch coughs and wipes his mouth and laughs a ragged, hollowed-out sound.

Drag him up by his hair. Split his spine against the edge of the table. Cut off his rasping speech (could Zero command massacres with such a breathy, trembling voice?) with a kiss that tastes bitter, like guilt. Grope blindly at the significance of the upturned corners of Lelouch’s reddened lips. Vocal or silenced, Lelouch will always mystify.

“–condoms in my room,” Lelouch resumed, once permitted. “But Rolo’s upstairs.”

He moves to gently touch Suzaku’s cheek (a touch the knight rejects, as if swatting away a fly).

Lelouch’s hand falls to rest against Suzaku’s chest (still too tenderly, but Suzaku allows it) and he chuckles dryly. “At least you haven’t changed that much.”

“What?”

“You still don’t know this about yourself? When you’re jealous, you look like you could decapitate someone with your bare hands. And I’m fond of where my head is currently attached.”

“I’m not—”

“And you get angry when you try to lie.” Lelouch’s mouth twists, but Suzaku can’t tell if in amusement or remorse. “I love that about you.”

Is this the proof that Lelouch… Proof of what? Would Lelouch-as-Zero dance on this knife edge of a love confession? Would Lelouch Lamperouge?

Lelouch’s palm slides down Suzaku’s chest as if by accident, making Suzaku’s abdomen twitch. “I love this part of you too,” he adds with humor. “We can do without the condoms, can’t we? Assuming you haven’t picked up some strange disease.”

Suzaku chokes on his first impulse, which is to slap Lelouch across his flushed cheeks. Instead, the knight mutters, “I wouldn’t do this with anyone else.”

“Careful there, Suzaku.” Lelouch’s expression is soft, yielding. “You’ll make me think I actually mean something to you.”

Gritting his teeth, Suzaku grabs Lelouch’s shoulder and whirls him around so that Lelouch is bent over the dining table. Pinned in place by the large hand on the back of his neck, Lelouch struggles momentarily to turn his face to the side before giving up. His posture relaxes, his long pianist fingers splay peacefully on the table surface. Suzaku hates that sinuous confidence. Characteristic of Zero. Or of Lelouch?

But Suzaku’s mile-wide masochistic streak—

_Excavate the soft insides, horrifyingly alive and writhing. After the gruesome dissection, Lelouch will still smile his ravaged mouth smile at you until your only options are to sob in his arms or to close to door to your face with the brutality of a firing squad. And you, Suzaku, will choose death every time._


End file.
